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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648427">Modest in Temper, Bold in Deed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalish_and_Dragons/pseuds/Dalish_and_Dragons'>Dalish_and_Dragons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Implied Sexual Content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:56:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalish_and_Dragons/pseuds/Dalish_and_Dragons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Evelyn Trevelyan, the youngest child and black sheep of House Trevelyan. A rogue brought up with a stern set of expectations, Evelyn defied these at every turn, determined to live a life she chose as opposed to the lifetime of Chantry service imposed upon her since childhood. After the events of the Conclave, however, she was both freer and more duty-bound than she had ever been.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassandra Pentaghast/Female Trevelyan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Modest in Temper, Bold in Deed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi all! After playing as a Trevelyan Inquisitor, I got the idea to start this story. I've always wanted to romance Cassandra, and since I can't do it in the game, this story will include that. The story begins during the time in between the events of Redcliffe and In Your Heart Shall Burn, where they recruited the mages and Dorian but have yet to seal the Breach. I am very excited to explore the story of Evelyn Trevelyan as she navigates life in her various roles not only as the Herald and later the Inquisitor, but as a friend, a lover, and a symbol of hope. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Leliana told me you would be here.” </p>
<p>The Seeker stood with her hands on her hips, the hint of a smile threatening to betray an otherwise somber tone. </p>
<p>Evelyn Trevelyan peered up from her place on the ground where she had dug a small snow-free niche and leaned up against a scour of boulders, squinting against the glare of sun blazing behind the Seeker’s towering form. The sounds of soldiers trading blows in Haven’s training yard reached them from across the frozen lake.</p>
<p>“So she did. What is it you’re seeking, my dear Seeker?”</p>
<p>Cassandra noted the feeble attempt at her characteristic lighthearted tone, the way in which she clenched at the scroll of paper in her fist. Her smile quickly turned to a frown. </p>
<p>“It is not like you to miss our training, especially after your...crafty victory from the last time.” She quipped as she seated herself beside the Herald, who closed her eyes and smiled at the memory. </p>
<p>“Ah, yes. You mean when I outmaneuvered you in front our soldiers” Trevelyan chipped as the corners of her mouth lifted in a wicked smile. </p>
<p>Cassandra rolled her eyes, tutting. </p>
<p>“You mean when you cheated.” </p>
<p>Trevelyan gasped, feigning offence. </p>
<p>“Me, cheat? Never. You simply were not expecting my dexterity.” Cassandra crossed her arms. </p>
<p>“Sweeping the leg is <em>not</em> a true battle tactic.” </p>
<p>The Herald chuckled, eyes roaming the training grounds in the distance. </p>
<p>“Say what you will, but when the next set of Templars charges us in the wilds I bet you ten Sovereigns I can beat them with purely sweeping their legs.” </p>
<p>“Ugh.”</p>
<p>Cassandra shook her head, a smile gracing her features nevertheless. </p>
<p>They sat for a moment in silence, the distant sound of sparring and blacksmith’s hammers hard at work the only sounds that drifted on the frigid mountain air. The Seeker spared a glance at the Herald, who was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, arms circling them protectively, the rolled up parchment still tight in hand. Her flaming hair was swept to one side, gleaming radiantly in the harsh evening sunlight, though her usually relaxed features seemed pinched. Cassandra opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, wanting to break the silence but uncertain how to broach it. </p>
<p>“It...is not my place to ask, but you seem different. Is it something to do with the letter?” The Seeker ventured, hoping she had not crossed any boundaries. She had not known the woman long, though in the few short weeks since her initial arrival in Haven the Seeker had found a sort of unusual fondness in the Herald’s seemingly boundless energy and lack of regard for societal propriety. She often witnessed her making jests even in the face of the most dire of circumstances and taking every opportunity to defy the clearly marked paths both in Haven and on their expeditions, often trekking the group over steep hillsides and through icy streams or walking atop the low walls that ran adjacent to the clearly paved paths in the small winter town. More recently she had noticed her turning chairs backwards or neglecting them entirely in favor of sitting directly on tables and desks, to Josephine’s eternal chagrin. The Seeker wondered if these small acts of rebellion were her way of assuming control in a life that constantly pulled her in so many different directions, or perhaps stemmed from something in her past, before she had joined the Inquisition. Perhaps both. </p>
<p>“It is.” </p>
<p>The Herald’s voice shook her from her thoughts. She glanced over at the woman beside her, grasping the paper even tighter in her hand. It flashed green as her mark flared. Cassandra hesitated. </p>
<p>“Would you...like to talk about it?” She cringed inwardly at her stumbling words, waiting for Trevelyan’s reaction. </p>
<p>Evelyn bit her lip. </p>
<p>“No...maybe. I don’t know.” She sighed and flopped back against the boulder, running a hand through her hair. </p>
<p>“It is a letter...from my sire. He wishes to connect his influence with the Inquisition, and proposes terms for me to follow to make amends for-” She stopped short, sighing once more before thrusting the letter toward the Seeker beside her. Cassandra unraveled it and read:</p>
<p>
  <em>Daughter,<br/>
It has reached my attention that you have joined this Inquisition, and have coined the title “Herald of Andraste.” I am relieved to finally see you taking on the responsibilities within the Chantry I had proposed long ago. I am aware we have been somewhat estranged since your abrupt refusal of your sacred duties, but I assure you so long as you follow these steps I will accept your amends. They are as follows:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1) Repent for your digressions against the family and the Chantry we faithfully serve, sending a missive from a Revered Mother as proof thereafter</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>2) Accept your responsibilities as a member of House Trevelyan, which includes service to the Maker as well as for the benefit of this House</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>3) Redirect your focus from less desirable methods of pleasure to one more befitting of a Lady, such as embroidery or music. I will contact your cousin Lady Elisa for recommendations and send them in a separate attachment.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>4) Finally, denounce your support of the dismantling of the Ostwick Circle of Magi and other scandalous efforts</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Once I have received word of your amends, I will be certain to reinstate the efforts of restoring your reputation in my House and will assist you in matters of politic and finance regarding your Inquisition. I will be in touch with your ambassador, Lady Montilyet. Until then, please follow the above suggestions as soon as possible, Herald of Andraste. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Respectfully,<br/>
Bann Trevelyan</em>
</p>
<p>Cassandra read over the letter several times, a broiling rage building within her each time she read the words the Herald’s father had written. She handed it back to Evelyn, who promptly squashed it into a ball. </p>
<p>“Maker’s breath I thought I could finally be rid of him and his blighted need for control, but even here I cannot be free.” </p>
<p>She let her head fall back against the stone and closed her eyes, though Cassandra noticed the redness of her face, whether from rage or cold she could not say. </p>
<p>“I gather you are not on good terms, then?” The Seeker’s accented voice grounded Evelyn as she took a deep breath, and met her eyes. </p>
<p>She laughed, a hollow and angry sound compared to her usual mirth. </p>
<p>“No, we are not.” </p>
<p>They passed another several minutes in silence, Trevelyan brushing her hand against the snow at her feet while Cassandra studied her. </p>
<p>“I know we have become increasingly acquainted in these last few weeks, but it occurs to me I hardly know anything about you.” </p>
<p>The Herald stopped brushing the snow from the ground and glanced up, head cocked to one side, the storm of anger seeming to dissipate from her clear green eyes. </p>
<p>“What would you like to know?” </p>
<p>Cassandra hesitated. </p>
<p>“I...do not know. You are from the Free Marches?” </p>
<p>Evelyn nodded. “Yes, House Trevelyan is one of the noble houses in Ostwick. I am the only girl in my family, both of my brothers have served the Chantry for many years.” </p>
<p>Cassandra raised a brow. “But not you.” </p>
<p>Evelyn smiled. “No, not me. I was never inclined to wear stifling layers of ridiculous garments and pay lipservice to the Maker while my father pulled the strings of my fate like a puppet master.” </p>
<p>Though her tone was lighter than before, the Seeker could hear the anger beneath. She nodded, feeling for the first time a connection with the rogue she had assumed to be her antithesis.</p>
<p>“I felt much the same. My uncle was a Mortalitasi, a death mage in Nevarra. The Pentaghasts value their precious blood like it runs with gold, and what I saw of my homeland was from the bars of a gilded cage. I was treated like a doll placed on a shelf to be taken off and dusted only when necessary.” </p>
<p>For the first time since Cassandra had approached her, Evelyn smiled. Truly smiled, the Seeker noted as she felt a small thread of connection to the young woman. </p>
<p>“Yes, I felt the same. Though I  was never the dutiful and poised daughter my father had wished, I don’t think he truly ever expected me to deviate from his plans.” Trevelyan shrugged, raising her left hand so the sun illuminated the mark. “If this is the Maker’s idea of a jest, I hope there will be a damn good punchline.” </p>
<p>Cassandra rolled her eyes. </p>
<p>“You learned that phrase from Varric, didn’t you.” </p>
<p>Trevelyan laughed, the familiar cheerfulness returning. </p>
<p>“What can I say, I learn from the best.” The Herald winked and Cassandra found herself smiling despite the brevity of the letter. Evelyn stood and stretched, stooping to retrieve the balled-up letter from its soggy place in the snow with the look of someone who was holding a particularly repulsive bug. </p>
<p>“Well, I’m off to go burn this in the nearest fire and down a few pints. Care to join me, Seeker?” A mischievous smile lit the rogue’s features, and Cassandra felt her face warming. She cursed herself inwardly for stumbling clumsily over her words. </p>
<p>“I...no, thank you. I should return to train.” </p>
<p>The Herald shrugged good-naturedly. </p>
<p>“As you wish.” She turned and began to tramp back to Haven, stopping short of the bridge that led over the frozen lake and met the Seeker’s eyes. </p>
<p>“And thank you, Cassandra.” With that, the young woman strode across the bridge, whistling a gaudy tune.<br/>
Cassandra felt her cheeks burning as her name escaped the Herald’s lips; it was the first time she had ever called her by her name. She closed her eyes a moment and savored the sound of it escaping Trevelyan’s mouth, her vibrant green eyes crinkling at the corners as she grinned. The Seeker shook herself and cursed. Maker, what was wrong with her? Trevelyan was the Herald and...a woman. A pang of guilt stabbed at her as she thought of Regalyan. She grumbled and stomped across the bridge to the training yard, already eyeing the training dummy she would decapitate.<br/>
****</p>
<p>“And that makes six. I believe you owe me some Sovereigns, Seeker.” </p>
<p>Trevelyan concluded, flashing Cassandra a wicked grin as she sheathed her daggers, strands of red hair sticking to her face and neck from the exertion. Cassandra rolled her eyes. </p>
<p>“Ugh.” </p>
<p>A booming laugh resounded from behind them as Iron Bull yanked his axe from the Templar at his feet. “Ha! We’re placing bets now? I’m in.” </p>
<p>“Me as well, I bet all of you five Sovereigns I could freeze each of our enemies before your blades even touched them, oh wait” Dorian quipped, placing a hand over his mouth in mock surprise, “I’ve already won. My, my I wonder what I shall do with my fifteen Sovereigns.” </p>
<p>“We are <em>not</em> placing bets. Sweet Andraste can none of you take anything seriously?” The Seeker grunted, wiping the sweat from her brow. </p>
<p>“We could, but where’s the fun in that, my dear Seeker?” Trevelyan chirped. </p>
<p>“Ugh. In any case, we should make camp. The sun will be setting soon.” </p>
<p>A few hours later the tents were erected and a massive cauldron of stew boiled above a crackling campfire, where a soldier stirred the pot while others patrolled the perimeter of the camp. Not far from the tents, the sound of steel meeting steel rang out into the gathering night. </p>
<p>“No. Again.” Cassandra’s blunt voice scolded as she had parried Trevelyan’s strike yet again. The Herald’s arms shook with the weight of the sword as she grasped it in both hands, but kept it at the ready nonetheless. Trevelyan had approached her a week earlier, asking to teach her to properly wield a sword. She worked hard and learned quickly, Cassandra noted, though she had a lurking suspicion that the lessons had less to do with the rogue learning to wield a sword and more to do with the opportunity it provided the young woman to poke fun at the Seeker. She was too easy, according to her. </p>
<p>“Remember your footwork. This is not a dagger, you cannot navigate as fluidly as you normally do. Again.” Cassandra pointed her sword at Trevelyan, holding it steady as she prepared for another attack. Trevelyan shuffled her feet and then charged, keeping her stance steady as she made to swing right but then shifted at the last moment and swung the blade in an arc to the left. </p>
<p>Cassandra nearly stumbled as she made to block the surprise blow, blades crashing just as it neared her leg. Trevelyan smirked and made to pull back, but Cassandra saw her left foot pivot slightly in an attempt to make another feigned attack and caught the other woman’s blade with her own as it swung near her side, using the strength of her blow against her and pushed. Trevelyan landed on her back as her sword clattered to the ground. </p>
<p>She craned her neck up at the Seeker, chest heaving from exertion. </p>
<p>“How did you know?” She asked breathlessly, and Cassandra couldn’t help but try to restrain the smile that had begun to spread at the sight of the Herald sprawled gracelessly on the ground. </p>
<p>“Your footwork. You must not pivot until the moment you intend to strike, or it will give you away.” </p>
<p>Trevelyan cursed and let her head fall to the ground, trying to regain her breath. </p>
<p>Bull laughed raucously and drank from his tankard as he watched from his place by the fire. “Nice work, boss!” </p>
<p>Evelyn gave a half-hearted wave. “Thanks for your support, Bull. Means a lot.” </p>
<p>Bull chuckled as he took another hearty swig. “No problem, boss.” </p>
<p>“Any advice?” </p>
<p>Bull whirled the contents of his cup thoughtfully. </p>
<p>“Yeah, actually. Don’t get hit.” </p>
<p>Evelyn groaned and sat up, grasping the hand Cassandra had offered her as she pulled her from the ground. </p>
<p>“I think that is enough for today.” </p>
<p>Evelyn grinned. </p>
<p>“I agree. If we continue, I may actually best you, and I would love to hear what our dear Varric will write about that.”</p>
<p>Cassandra made a disgruntled sound in the back of her throat. </p>
<p>“You know, you are not nearly as charming as you think you are.” </p>
<p>Evelyn smirked wickedly.  “So you admit that I’m charming!”</p>
<p>Cassandra rolled her eyes. </p>
<p>“I did no such thing.”</p>
<p>Trevelyan laughed. “As you wish. You look dashing when you’re blushing, by the way.” With that, the Herald made her way over the fire where bowls of stew were being ladled out. </p>
<p>Cassandra opened her mouth to reply at the retreating figure, but promptly shut it. She felt her face, hot to the touch, and cursed the rogue’s ability to fluster her at every chance. She felt both infuriated by and fond of the Herald, something she was not familiar with. In all of her years serving as a Seeker, she had come across many different kinds of people, people who made her angry, people she despised, people she became friends with, people who inspired her, people she cared for, though none had ever stirred the torrent of emotions that Evelyn Trevelyan instilled in her. She had never felt this way about anyone, much less a woman. Though what “this way” was, she did not know. And that infuriated her. She shook her head of these thoughts and went to join the others by the fire, accepting a bowl of stew gratefully. </p>
<p>It was late into the night when the Seeker stirred, uncertain what had roused her. She turned and glanced at the vacant bedroll to her left, then peered through the small crack in the tent flaps to see the merry crackle of the campfire still alight. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she poked her head from the tent to see Trevelyan hunched on a log near the fire, face screwed in concentration, scribbling on something in her lap. </p>
<p>“You should be resting.” Cassandra whispered, voice low so as to not wake the others who had retired to their tents. Trevelyan started and turned towards the voice, her surprise quickly shifting to a wide grin that made her eyes crinkle, just a bit. </p>
<p>“Couldn’t sleep.” </p>
<p>Before she could think about what she was doing, Cassandra found herself leaving the tent to sit beside the Herald upon the log, warming her hands by the fire and observing the rogue writing busily in a leather-bound journal. </p>
<p>“Another rogue storyteller?” Cassandra tried to convey the sarcasm she had intended in the question, but like most things she tried to say or write, it came off harsher than she meant it.</p>
<p>Trevelyan shook her head and chuckled. </p>
<p>“No, nothing like that. It’s something of a habit I picked up on Ostwick. Recording events as they happen. Before I did it to keep track of things my father had said or done to me that were...unbefitting. He would often twist my words and actions to suit his purposes, so I recorded them after they happened to have something of a true record, if not to use against him then at least to prove I wasn’t losing my mind.” </p>
<p>Cassandra remembered the letter from Evelyn’s father, how angry and hurt it made her. She had heard of the Trevelyans though had never had the pleasure of meeting the Bann, though she thought now perhaps that was for the best. </p>
<p>“And now?”</p>
<p>“Now I use it as simply a record, detailing events how they actually occurred. The Inquisition is growing, and already the stories of what happened and how they happened are getting distorted and far too exaggerated. At least with this, no matter what the stories grow into, we will remember the truth.” </p>
<p>The Seeker studied the young woman. This was a side of her that Cassandra had not anticipated. Of course she knew she was not always the witty, carefree person she seemed, but she had not expected this level of thoughtfulness from the young woman. She had, however, noticed her uncanny ability to not only be able to drink and trade witty remarks with Bull and Varric and Sera, but also to listen with rapt attention to the troubles of others as though her life depended on it. Whether it was Solas’ ramblings about the Fade or the troubles of the townsfolk in Haven, Trevelyan listened and did whatever she could to ease their burdens or simply to be a friend. This day alone she had spoken to villagers in Redcliffe and delivered flowers to the grave of an elven man’s wife, returned a missing Druffalo to a farmer, and recovered a stolen ring of a woman’s late husband from a band of rogue Templars, in addition to sealing rifts. How she had the energy to spar afterward and still be awake this late, Cassandra could only fathom. </p>
<p>“That is...quite thoughtful. I thought of doing something similar when we first began the Inquisition, but I am not good with words. They always come out too harsh or accusatory.” Cassandra confessed, scratching the back of her head uncomfortably. </p>
<p>Evelyn laughed quietly. </p>
<p>“Well I think you’re delightful, communication skills included.” </p>
<p>Cassandra frowned, a small fire ignited in her chest. </p>
<p>“I am not in the mood for more jests.”</p>
<p>The Herald shook her head, closing the journal and securing it shut with a string of twine. </p>
<p>“I was not jesting, for once. Shocking, I know” sarcasm dripped from her lips with an ease the Seeker almost envied, “in truth, I am grateful for your companionship, Cassandra. You...you have come to mean very much to me, not only as an advisor but as a friend.” </p>
<p>Cassandra felt the blush crawling up her neck as the smile she had tried to suppress betrayed her. Evelyn studied the woman before her, taking note that the key to understanding the Seeker was not in her eyes, which were always filled with that same fierce passion which she applied to each and every task she performed, but in her smile. </p>
<p>She wanted to say something in turn, to convey how much the Herald’s companionship meant to her, but any words she tried to say felt like ashes in her mouth. Trevelyan only smiled that beautiful, lopsided smile and stood, stretching like a cat. </p>
<p>“Well, I suppose it’s time we turn in. We’re headed to the Storm Coast tomorrow, after all.” She paused a moment as Cassandra rose and began to follow her to their shared tent, a familiar smirk on her face that filled the Seeker with both dread and affection. “I heard the Storm Coast has dragons. I’ve always wanted to see a dragon up close. Do you think they would make good pets?” </p>
<p>Cassandra shook her head. </p>
<p>“Ugh.”<br/>
****</p>
<p>“Shit, why did it have to be spiders?” Trevelyan cursed as she sidestepped the body of a giant spider at her feet, lying upside down with its spindly legs curled inward. </p>
<p>Bull cleaned the ichor from his axe as he finished off the last giant spider, cleaved in two. He laughed, a booming sound further exemplified by the cave. </p>
<p>“Afraid of a few bugs, boss?” </p>
<p>Evelyn shivered. </p>
<p>“These are <em>not</em> just bugs. Bugs you can squash, or brush off your shoe. These creatures…” she trailed off as she scowled at Dorian chuckling beside her, holding a severed spider leg and wiggling it before her. She blanched. </p>
<p>“What a shame, and here I thought we could have these for supper. Good source of protein, you know.”  </p>
<p>Evelyn made a disgusted sound and sidestepped closer to Cassandra. The Seeker thought it was actually quite endearing, this woman who was so graceful and witty, so adept at pinpointing the weaknesses of others and who had faced down anything from bandits to demons-was afraid of spiders. </p>
<p>“Bah, at any rate we still need to close that damned rift” Bull reminded them. Trevelyan’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly at this, though she sheathed her daggers and squared her shoulders. </p>
<p>“Right, let’s get on with it then.” </p>
<p>Dorian chuckled. “Had enough of the freezing rain and mud? I quite agree.” </p>
<p>They were sludging through the relentlessly pouring rain towards the hill where a scout had reported a rift when a roar issued from somewhere in the gray sky. Trevelyan felt it in her bones, the powerful vibrations tearing through her like an earthquake. Her stomach dropped as she squinted against the rain drops pelting her face. </p>
<p>“Ha-ha, she’s a beauty! Tell me we’re fighting that thing, boss” Bull boomed, face upturned to the colossal black dragon circling above them in the sky. Evelyn’s stomach dropped. </p>
<p>“Not unless we have to. We’re not equipped for fighting that beast, not yet.” </p>
<p>The dragon screeched again, a rippling aura of purple beginning to encircle her form, like the green that pulsed around Trevelyan’s hand when they were near a rift. </p>
<p>“Look out!” </p>
<p>She barely had time to register Cassandra’s panicked voice as she called out before she was slammed to the ground as she felt the earth shake and tingle beneath her. She felt the weight lifted off of her and looked up to see Cassandra leaning over her, shield drawn. </p>
<p>“Herald, are you alright?” </p>
<p>Trevelyan looked around at the blasted remains of a tree that had been near them, then up at the high dragon circling above. She hastily climbed to her feet.</p>
<p>“Shit, I know I said I wanted a pet dragon but I didn’t actually <em>mean</em> it! What-” </p>
<p>Her question was cut short as another deafening roar came from the dragon before the ground shook with its weight as it landed on the charred space of land before them. To her left, she could see Iron Bull and Dorian climbing to their feet as the dragon eyed them, her whole body crackling with electricity. Bull bellowed riotously. </p>
<p>“She’s magnificent! This is a good day, a very good day.” </p>
<p>Cassandra grunted beside her. </p>
<p>“This is an exceedingly dangerous dragon. I have fought one like her before, we cannot take her on with only us, we will surely die. We need to retreat.” </p>
<p>Dorian spoke up, holding his staff at the ready. </p>
<p>“And how exactly are we going to <em>do</em> that?” </p>
<p>Cassandra opened her mouth to reply when the dragon growled and rose up on its haunches, electricity crackling down its back. </p>
<p>“Get behind cover, it will attack!” The Seeker shouted, diving behind a tree. The others scrambled to follow suit. Trevelyan dove behind a tree just in time before it crashed its massive from body upon the ground and screeched. She covered her ears, though it did little to stem the noise that scrambled her thoughts with its ferocity. </p>
<p>She heard the subtle cracking of electricity upon its body before she felt the booming crack of the tree she was using for cover as it erupted in a shower of flame and splinters. She heard Bull give a mighty cry and the distinct sound of steel meeting flesh as she stumbled away from the shattered tree to see the qunari with his massive axe cleaved in the neck of the dragon. Despite his strength, the blade had not made any mortal damage to the thick hide. </p>
<p>“Go, I’ll hold her off!” He shouted, attempting to wrench his weapon free as the dragon swung its head in an attempt to unhinge it from her neck. </p>
<p>“No! You all get to the rift, take care of the demons. I’ll hold her off.” Trevelyan asserted, clenching the fingers of her left hand. </p>
<p>Cassandra banged her sword against her shield in an effort to disorient the dragon. “Absolutely not! You will surely die, we cannot take such a risk.”</p>
<p>The rogue persisted. </p>
<p>“I can do it if I use the Mark. We have no choice, Cassandra! All of you, get to the rift now or we’re all dead!” </p>
<p>Cassandra opened her mouth to protest but raised her shield to ward off the whip of the dragon’s tail. She stumbled and grunted at the impact. </p>
<p>“I said go Seeker-now!” Trevelyan blurted, shielding her eyes as the dragon shot a strike of lightning from its mouth. The three companions relented, making their way towards the rift as Trevelyan removed her glove and pointed her hand at the dragon staring her down. </p>
<p>There was a massive flash of green as Cassandra turned and saw the Herald supporting her left arm with her right as a massive field of green magic encircled the dragon. Her heart pounded in her chest as she heard its screech of pain. </p>
<p>“Come one, Seeker! The Herald will be fine.” Dorian urged, though the lines between his brows suggested otherwise despite his assured demeanor. The Seeker tore her eyes away from the Herald and continued on towards the sinister green light in the distance, drawing her sword. </p>
<p>Trevelyan gritted her teeth as her arm shook with the effort of using the Mark. The dragon was weakening, she could tell from its screams, but she could not relinquish her efforts. She would not relinquish them. Not when the lives of her companions were at stake. </p>
<p>It felt like hours, though she was reasonably sure it couldn’t have been more than several minutes, before the dragon let out a screech of obvious anguish. Trevelyan released the Mark and stumbled back as the dragon let out a feebler roar before taking to the skies once again, massive wings heavily beating the air as it made its escape. </p>
<p>Cassandra turned from the fatal blow she had dealt the demon before her and turned to see the dragon flying through the sky, though less graceful than before. She had heard its roars of pain from some distance away, and couldn’t help but to keep glancing anxiously towards the direction they had come, hoping to see some glimpse of the rain-soaked red hair. </p>
<p>Several minutes later, she wiped the ichor from her sword and glanced again into the distance, peering through the sheets of rain. </p>
<p>“She should have been here by now. I am going to look for her.” Cassandra started, before a familiar crop of red hair came into view as Trevelyan trekked up the hillside, that lopsided grin visible on her clammy face. The Seeker released a breath she was not aware she was holding. </p>
<p>“If I didn’t know any better it sounded as though you missed me, Seeker” the rogue grinned, clutching at her left arm with her right. </p>
<p>“Oh she most certainly did. You should’ve seen the troubled glances she cast over the hillside.” Dorian’s suave voice remarked, a relaxed smile lighting his face. </p>
<p>“Ugh. I am just relieved you are alive. I was concerned, that dragon is no wyvern.” </p>
<p>Trevelyan flexed her fingers. </p>
<p>“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but for once I’m glad I had this. We surely wouldn’t have made it out in one piece without it. Now, let’s get out of this damn place.” </p>
<p>She raised her hand to the rift in the sky, the thread of magic connecting her hand to the tear. Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead as she secured it in place, the familiar vibrations of the closure climbing up her arm until she could no longer tell where it ended and the rift began; she fought a jolt of panic as the feeling did not subside with the closure of the tear. </p>
<p>“Are you alright?” She heard Cassandra’s voice somewhere behind her, but could not muster a reply; she bit her tongue as a ripple of pain lanced up her arm, breaking off into smaller stabs of pain like a lightning strike. She put up her hand when Cassandra moved to help her. </p>
<p>“I’m fine, it’s just aggitat-ah!” She cried out, unable to suppress the pain any longer. It was ravaging her arm, branching through up to her shoulder. It was a white-hot, blinding pain. She did not recognize her screams as they were drowned out by the rain around them. </p>
<p>Cassandra wrapped her arms around the Herald as she fell to her knees, grasping her left arm as it swirled with the sickly green magic embedded under its surface. </p>
<p>“Evelyn! What is wrong? Is it the Mark?” She fought to keep the panic from her voice as Trev writhed and whimpered in her grip. “Dorian, can you do anything?” </p>
<p>The mage knelt beside the Herald, gently taking her arm and wincing as she cried out from the contact. He examined the Mark, whispering different spells under his breath. A crease formed between his brows. </p>
<p>“For the Mark? I’m afraid not. But I can ease her pain. We need to return to Haven, Solas is the expert on this.” He moved his hands deftly along Trevelyan’s arm, whispering under his breath, as Cassandra held her steady. She jerked when he got to her hand, fighting against a pain the Seeker could only imagine, before slowly relaxing in her arms, eyes closed. </p>
<p>“There. That should help, at least until we reach Haven.” </p>
<p>Bull put a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder. </p>
<p>“I’ve got her, Seeker.” </p>
<p>Cassandra relinquished her burden over to the qunari, feeling almost bereft as the warm weight of the rogue left her arms. She stood and followed the pair back towards the camp where their horses waited, eyeing the sickly green flashes of light that pulsed on the Herald’s hand and up into her wrist, praying they would make it to Haven before it spread any further.</p>
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